Winning over the Weasleys by Emeralds in the Dark Chapter 11
Weasley Free Weak silence permeated, save for the drip of
the faucet and the strings of crickets.
The window was propped, letting in the late evening breeze and
Yoki Harvest Moon painting Jinny in a glowy gossamer.
Draco's legs stretched along both sides of the porcelain
basin, framing her between them. Jinny lounged against his chest,
her damp hair stuck over his skin, the ends curling where
they were still dry. Condensation beaded on her
forehead, A testament to the languid pass of time.
Jinny loved The Jets, though they had long since turned to a
dull hum. Their fingers had pruned and the
water had cooled, but neither had the heart to move.
Draco would cast another warming charm each time the chill crept
in, keeping the bath tepid in the quiet.
When neither of them spoke, he would gift a kiss to her temple.
The candle wax dripped down sides of their candlesticks,
hissing as it met the steam. This stillness, this serenity,
this was what Draco thought of when he needed to quiet his
mind, his refuge, his peace. I was right to ask you to move
in, he whispered. We could do this every night,
ending the day together like this, soaking in each other.
Jinny hummed, tracing vacant patterns over his knee.
I do love this bath almost as much as the Prefect 1.
Draco chuckled, nipping at her ear.
Fond memories of that one after Quidditch matches, remember I
held your tasty little cunt under The Jets, turning them on
and off until you screamed. Jinny tilted her head to cast up
her lashes. That was naughty.
Think I can angle myself under these?
I'm sure we could figure out how to do that.
Draco groaned, his palms foraging her flesh, massaging
her tits before his fingers skimmed the dip of her stomach
and moved between her thighs. Jeannie's body arched into his
touch. Just as he was about to ruin her
properly, she spoke. Bill invited us to show Cottage.
Fleur is making dinner. The name alone was enough to
douse his fire. His plans stilled, the lust in
his body locking up at the mention of her brother.
When? Tomorrow night.
Tomorrow night, He repeated. I know.
She sighed dramatically, lengthening beneath him as if
she wasn't completely upending his plans for a perfectly
peaceful Weasley. Free, Weak.
I've barely given you enough time to scheme with Ron about
how to make Bill like you. Whatever will you do?
I don't know what you're talking about.
He lied, but even as the words left his tongue, he knew she
wasn't buying it. Ginny grinned.
Oh, please. Draco opened his mouth and then
immediately shut it again. He finally asked, half outraged.
That bloody bastard. I'll wring his neck, Jinny
Gefford. Hermione let slip they slept
together. Thankfully I was spared most of
the details, except for something about the pulsing of
his cheeks. She raised a brow.
Now who else would have told him to do that?
And why else would he have suddenly let you tag along to
Charlie's, You know? He began changing tactics
entirely. I'm quite impressive, actually.
I've got Percy's bill passed Ron laid, which frankly should earn
me an Order of Merlin. I've tamed a dragon.
Your mother and father didn't throw me off the stands at the
Quidditch match when they found out you moved in with me.
And he leaned closer with mock seriousness.
I don't feel as if I'm getting nearly enough praise for any of
that. Oh, poor you.
She splashed. I guess I'll have to make it up
to you then. Draco wisely stopped arguing.
Whatever you think is best, love.
Jinny flipped against his sawso. She had a mermaid like presence,
half in, half out of the shimmering pool of water, his
siren beckoning him home. Her hands rubbed over his
abdomen before wrapping around his stiffening cock.
What about this, Draco? She licked her tongue over the
pounding vein at his jugular. Is your girl making it up to you
yet? It's taking the edge off.
Draco sighed. Jinny circled the head of his
cock with her thumb. Get out of the tub.
She whispered. And I'll make your eyes roll to
the back of your head in 10 minutes.
Water sloshed as he pushed himself upright, muscles
tensing. Rivulets of water trailed down
his chest, dripped from his arms, and cascaded over every
sculpted plane of his body. He stepped onto his bath mat,
steam curling around him as Jinny fell back against the side
of the tub. Brown eyes raked over him,
thirsty for the way his cock bounced as he stood.
Floor. She ordered as she rose,
droplets rolling from her nipples like fresh rain off a
flower. Draco's spine met the cold
Italian marble, each vertebra pressed into the polished stone,
anchoring him to the reality of Jinny curling around his pelvis
like a serpent poised to strike. He should be more unnerved by
the way she toyed with him like he was her prey.
But he especially fucking loved this view.
Her tits had never looked better flushed from the bath.
Draco let his hands roam, sliding up her thighs, then
traced an exploratory path over her ribs before thumbing her
nipples. She aligned herself with him,
rolling her hips forward, then backward, taking him to the
hilt. Draco croaked a groan, his skull
smashing back, hands tightening on her waist as he felt her
honed muscles grip him with a control that should be criminal.
Jinny Weasley was a fucking masterpiece.
Fuck, love. He grunted.
I'm starting to feel much better.
Good. She dipped down, lips brushing
his own. Let's see how much better I can
make you feel. Jinny's hair spilled into his
face. Her tits smashed against his
pecs, saturated skin sliding against skin as she wriggled her
hips, testing his patience, making him grunt and whine as
his cock sat half inside her. She lifted herself, only to slam
back down in a rhythm so relentless that it reminded him
of those Muggle pop singers, the way they moved their bodies with
obscene ease. Her arse and lower back arched,
bouncing in a hypnotic motion as she rode him.
Drigger's hands skated up her spine, gripping lightly, careful
not to disrupt the devastating system she was creating.
Jinny's voice was a breathy tease at his lobe.
Do you want to come? His head lowered back against
the marble. The exertion of holding on made
his limbs boneless. His hips snapped up desperately
to chase the high. Yes.
He rasped. Fuck yes, bounce your ass on me
like that, Red. She sucked against the contour
of his cheek. You like that?
Draker growled in response, his hands seized the flesh of her
arse, his palm coming down to slap against the jiggle each
time her clit rubbed against the base of him.
Fucking love it. Jinny's pace didn't resolve, if
anything she speed up the squelching of their bodies.
Meeting only spurred him further into madness.
You want to come, Daddy? She taunted.
You want to fill up my sweet little cunt?
Draco swore his brain broke. The pleasure sparked down his
spine in frenzied chucks. Daddy wants to come.
He admitted without shame, his mind blank beyond the vice grip
of her cunt. Fuck, Daddy needs to come.
Jinny clenched in the most unholy of manners.
That's it. He moaned a little more.
Fuck, Jin, let me milk you. She slammed down once, twice,
3/4 times more until Draco broke.
He thrust up wildly, hands splaying across her ass.
He emptied. Torrent.
Ropes have come against her. His thumb had been dangerously
close to pressing inside her pucker.
I thought he definitely needed to revisit later, but for now,
he was eradicated. His cock still twitched inside
her, creamy white already beginning to drip between them.
Jinny rushed kisses against his jaw.
Feel better? Draco reeled, his body too spent
to do much more than grin at her, lazy and lovestruck.
I'm going to marry you, he murmured, dazed but deadly
serious. Jinny's laughter was a bright
thing, reverberating through his blood, making his very sensitive
cock tremor again. She rolled off him with the
casual grace of someone who hadn't just ruined him, and she
slithered back into the bath, towing the faucet back on to
fill it with fresh, steaming water.
His body ached, his lower backward bruised from being
ground into the marble. Still, he pushed himself to his
elbows, watching as Jinny grabbed a loofer, drizzling soap
over it before running it down her thighs.
I'm serious, he added. I know you are.
Draco had one thing on his mind. Yes, it was bloody early, but
desperate times called for desperate measures.
If he was going to play it cool for tonight's dinner at Bill and
Fleur Weasley's, he needed to get a head start on the damage
control. Bill was the last hurdle, and
quite frankly, the one that terrified him the most.
There was a reason he'd saved that particular Weasley for
last. The man had nearly died during
the war, and while it hadn't been Draco's wand that had tore
into him, it had been his actions that had allowed the
werewolf to waltz into Hogwarts and leave ruin in his wake.
What kind of grudge would a man like Bill Weasley hold for that?
Which was why at 7 in the damned morning, he unceremoniously
flewed into Ron Weasley's flat, hoping to catch him before he
left for work. He was met with a half asleep,
half naked Ron standing in his kitchen in nothing but a pair of
worn out briefs. A spoon was hanging out of his
mouth and a bowl of cereal was perched precariously on the
counter. Draco grimaced.
Dear Merlin, the sacrifices I make.
Ron blinked at him blearily, likely trying to understand the
why of Draco Malfoy appearing in his flat before dawn.
What are you doing here? He finally managed, dropping his
spoon into his cereal. Draco inhaled, about to launch
into an explanation, only to be distracted by the enticing aroma
of freshly brewed coffee. His priorities promptly shifted.
Do you have coffee? He asked, sniffing the air.
Ron narrowed his eyes. Yeah, but not for you.
Draco waved a dismissive hand. One cream, 1 sugar, if you don't
mind. Without waiting for a response,
he plopped onto Ron's sagging sofa, making himself comfortable
as if he hadn't just barged into a man's home uninvited.
Ron let out a groan, but after a moment of grumbling,
begrudgingly turned toward the counter.
Grabbing an extra mug, he levitated it over to where Draco
was sitting, sloshing over the rim.
Your brother Bill has invited us over for dinner this evening,
and I have no idea what to do or say that could possibly atone
for opening up that fucking cabinet.
Draco admitted. Ron, still leaning against the
counter, eyed him over his cereal bowl.
Just say that. Draco nearly choked.
Just say that. He let out a disbelieving Hough,
setting down his mug with a little more force than
necessary. Fucking hell, I don't know why I
do this to myself. You do realise you've never
given me a single useful piece of advice since the beginning of
this deal? Ron squinted.
That's not true. I meant it.
Just tell him that Bill's the most reasonable one out of all
of us. It wasn't you who savaged him.
And aside from liking is me A little rarer and apparently
getting Randy on a full moon, he hasn't changed much and he's
very forgiving. When I left during the hawk
crooks hunt, I went and stayed with him.
He didn't judge me, didn't berate me, he just understood.
You probably don't have to say anything at all, but if you do,
just be honest. He said it so casually, like it
wasn't the most brilliant and insightful thing he'd ever said
in his life. Draco, of course, would not tell
him that. Instead, he cleared his throat.
That's. That's not a bad idea, actually.
But before he could finish his thought, the shriek of a shower
turning off cut through the background noise of awakening
London. Do you have someone here?
Ron's face went red as the bathroom door swung open.
A cloud of steam spewed out along with Hermione Granger
wrapped in nothing but a tiny towel, her curls dripping water
over her bare shoulders. Dricker's eyebrows shot up to
his hairline. Granger stopped mid step, her
mouth parting in surprise as she clocked him sitting on Ron's
sofa, coffee in hand, looking far too amused for someone who'd
just been blindsided. Draco grinned, eyes bouncing
between them. Good morning, Granger.
Hermione pulled the towel closer, although all that seemed
to do was push up her tits. Draco had never thought about
Hermione Granger's tits until that exact moment, but now
unfortunately he had and he was definitely going to have to
shake off that mental imagery. Good morning Malfoy.
She said, attempting to recover, though the way she side eyed Ron
betrayed her flustered state. Ron shook his head as Hermione
padded into his bedroom and disappeared behind the door.
Good on you. Draco mused, leaning back on the
sofa. I didn't know Grainger was built
like that. Ron scowled at him.
What's that supposed to mean? Deciding he'd had his fill of
entertainment for the morning, he pushed himself off the couch.
Nothing, I'll leave you 2 to it. Thanks for the shite coffee and
the shite advice. He strode to the flu, grabbing a
handful of ash, about to throw it when he heard footsteps
behind him, quick and slippered. He turned to find himself face
to face with Hermione, now thankfully fully clothed.
She hesitated for a moment, then squared her shoulders.
I should say thank you, Draco. She said, almost shyly.
Draco sneered. He didn't like it when she was
unnervingly kind. It made him itchy.
For what? She just gave him a knowing
look. You know what?
The moment Draco stepped into Shell Cottage, he felt as though
he'd been transported to a retreat.
It wasn't at all what he'd expected from Bill, yet it was
exactly what he would have expected from Fleur.
A seaside Oasis, untouched and serene.
Just the endless stretch of ocean dunes, grassy knolls and
distant tree line. No muggle towns, no roads,
completely removed from the rest of the world.
As he took in the space, he found himself beginning to
understand Ron's sentiments about his older brother.
It is all good to have you both. Fleur gushed.
She kissed them both on the cheek, and for the first time he
felt truly included. In Fleur, he saw something
familiar. He wondered if his mother could
have been a version of Fleur if not for the weight of his
father's hatred. Thank you for the invitation.
Draco announced, glancing toward Bill who stood by the counter,
not grinning, but not scowling either.
Just cool and collected. Victoire is with Fuller's
parents, so I thought it'd be nice to have some adult company.
Bill said, his tone warming. Even if that adult company
happens to be my baby sister. He stepped forward to hug Ginny,
but she playfully pushed him away.
Not a baby anymore. You'll always be to me.
Bill ruffled her hair as if she was still a little girl, making
her groan and roll into Draco's side.
Fleur's made Cocovan, so I hope you're both hungry.
Bill continued, leading them toward the dining table.
One of my favourites. Draco added, making sure to
contribute something so he wasn't just standing there like
a moot buffoon. The Sancerre Fleur lifted a
bottle of icy white wine and began pouring before either of
them could protest. Not that they would.
Marfoy, I heard you tamed a dragon.
Bill questioned as he took his seat.
I wouldn't say tamed. Draco corrected.
Apostle let me pet him, though I suspect my choices were either
pet the beast and potentially die, or don't pet the beast and
somehow have your brother thinking he was owed a date with
my mother. He gave a theatrical shudder and
Bill let out a hearty laugh. You did the right thing.
Jinny cuffed. The thought of Charlie and your
mother haunts me. You haven't even had to endure
what I've heard. Draco muttered darkly.
Ah, that's just Charlie being Charlie.
Bill said, grinning. Always had a thing for older
women. Even back at school, he'd chase
after the girls my age. I was fairly convinced he'd put
in the moves on Mcgonigal at one point.
Draco choked on his drink, spluttering as he tried to
recover Macgonigal. Ginny gaped at Bill.
That's a joke, right? You can't be serious, just a
rumour. Bill admitted with a shrug.
Never asked him about it. Truthfully, I didn't want to
know. Leave Charlie alone.
Fleur defended. Nothing wrong with a man wanting
an older woman. Draco lifted a hand.
Apologies, I know I'm a guest in your home, but I'd argue there
is something wrong when that older woman is your mother.
Bill and Ginny burst into identical sibling laughter,
while Fleur blanched. I need to grab some firewood
from the stove, Mal, for you want to join me?
Bill stood, his laughter fading, and suddenly Jigger felt a pull
of anxiety tightening around his collar.
Still, he got up, nodding in agreement before glancing at
Jinny. She was already ushering him
forward. He hadn't brought a jacket.
The air was still warm, brisk yet pleasant after the stifling
city sun. Bill picked up one small tote,
likely charm to hold more than it appeared, and started down a
sandy path. Draco followed, his shoes
sinking into the sand. I'll use driftwood, usually does
the trick. Bill said casually, collecting
tangled limbs of bleached wood and shoving them into his bag.
Draco mimicked him, grabbing a few pieces nearby, waiting for
the inevitable shift in conversation, but Bill remained
quiet. Too quiet.
The silence gnawed at Draco, urging him to fill it.
Ron's words sang in his head about forgiveness, about
understanding, but every time he bent to pick up another piece of
Deadwood, all he could think was that ignoring the past felt
cowardly, and he didn't want to be a coward anymore.
I know what you've been doing. Bill interjected, as if he had
read Draco's thoughts or caught something in his body language.
And you don't have to say it. I should.
Draco swallowed, forcing him to meet Bill head on.
I want you to know I didn't know Greyback was going to join them
that night. That was never what I was told.
It was supposed to be just the Carrows and Yaxley.
He trailed off, bile rising in his throat.
He didn't want to remember. He didn't want to think about
the boy he had been paralysed with, fear, his family's safety
hanging in the balance. You don't have to say it,
Malfoy. Bill repeated.
I know what you've been through for her, for Ginny.
I've talked to Percy, George, Charlie and Ron.
I don't even want to know what scheme you 2 have cooked up, but
I can't imagine it's been easy. I respect you for putting in the
work for her. She deserves that.
Someone who puts in the effort. Bill exhaled.
I love Potter like a brother, but he never put the effort in
for my sister. I don't know you beyond the
things I've heard from my family, and I like to make my
own judgements. I can see you're not the person
you used to be. Somehow this felt worse than
outright hatred. Bill's natural ability to
forgive and move forward was so startling to Draco.
I'll always put in the work for her.
Draco said finally. Ginny is everything to me, and
you're everything to her. I know I'm never going to be the
most like to blow, get a family dinner, and that's fine, but I
couldn't stand the thought of bringing her any shame.
I'll always try. He picked up the last piece of
wood and tossed it into the bag, his stare drifting toward the
sea. Whitecaps formed on the horizon,
the ocean endless and untamed. For a fleeting moment he was
tempted to wade in, to let the salt sting his skin, to wash
away the weight of his past. Being confronted with his sins
in such an undeniable, visceral way had that effect on him.
I'll hold you to that. Bill added.
And if you don't? She's our baby sister.
Our only sister. There was no mistaking the
underlying warning. Trust me, she scares me more
than all 5 of you combined. Draco scoffed, and Bill gave a
satisfied nod. They made their way back up the
path toward the cottage, silence settling between them once more,
this time less uneasy, more understood.
Just as they reached the door, Bill chuckled.
I heard you had a hand in finally pushing Ron and Hermione
together. About time, really.
After dinner, Draco and Ginny said their goodbyes to Bill and
Fleur and flew back to the Manor.
Ginny, still restless, wriggled into a silk slip, poured them
both a glass of wine and barefoot and dragged him out
through the garden gate. They wandered through the maze
of roses, peonies, and night blooming florals.
Her feet pressed into the spongy earth, leaving grassy imprints
as she moved, pausing every so often to take a sip of wine or
lean down to inhale a bouquet of a flower.
Draco shadowed her, watching the tawny light frame her hair like
a Halo. His heart pounded as he took her
in. She hummed a tune by the Weird
Sisters as she spun lightly on her toes.
This could be the moment he wanted Jinny to be his wife.
It was the optimal setting, the idyllic feeling.
But he didn't have a ring, and he didn't have permission.
Two things he was now determined to get.
Are you drunk? He swirled his wine, it's pale
gold sparkling in the last light of the day.
I'm just having a lovely evening.
She smiled over her shoulder. You make every one of my
evenings lovelier. He plucked a Carmine Peony from
a nearby Bush and handed it to her.
She brought it to her nose before tucking it behind her
ear. I'll put this in a vase beside
our bed. You already have flowers beside
our bed. Draco reminded her.
He made sure there was always a fresh arrangement waiting for
her each morning. Yes, but I assume those are
picked by Topsy. She wiggled her eyebrows
mischievously. This one was picked by you.
What makes you think I don't get up each morning and pick these
flowers fresh for you? Draco feigned defence.
Because your face is usually between my thighs each morning,
unless you've mastered the art of being in two places at once.
Draco let out a flat cough. It's called delegating, red.
I figured you of all people would understand that the very
important task of ravishing my woman with my tongue far
outweighs personally picking her flowers.
You're an arse, she scolded. And yet you're stuck with me.
Apparently so, Jinny murmured as she seeped through the thin
fabric of her dress and into its warmth.
They watched the water spill over, the tears of the stone
fountain, droplets trickling down into the pond below.
The burble of water droned over the hush of the distant chir of
insects and the occasional rustle of leaves.
And were you worried? She mused, Worried my family
wouldn't come around. Draco rested his chin lightly
atop her head. We're not quite there yet, he
added. Still have one thing left.
He would ask Molly and Arthur for permission to marry their
daughter. Some may say they were young, 20
and 21, but in the world of pure blood betrothals, it was hardly
premature. Besides, a long engagement
wasn't out of the question. All he knew was that every day
he wanted to see a massive diamond on her finger, and one
day he wanted to hear her be called his wife.
And what's that one thing? Jinny teased, winning over the
garden gnomes? Nosy girl, am I no longer
allowed my secrets? His hands slid down her arms,
his fingers idly caressing her ring finger.
You've never been very good at keeping secrets.
She chided, spinning in his arms and letting her hands skim down
his shirt. I know your tells, Malfoy.
Is that what you think? Draco snatched her wrists.
It's what I know. Jinny emphasized, her smirk
daring him to challenge her. All right then, love, let's go
argue about it. Draco dropped to a knee and
hauled her over his shoulder. Jinny shrieked, her slipped
dress riding up over her ass as she scrambled to pull it down,
legs kicking but not hard enough for him to believe she actually
wanted him to stop. Draco put me down.
She huffed, squirming as he carried her up the path toward
the manor's West Wing, their wing.
I'm afraid I can't. He said, readjusting her like a
sandbag, jostling her slightly just to hear her squeal again.
You asked for this, I'm going to strangle you.
She fought, her laughter breaking through the threat.
Oh, I'm counting on that. Draco drawled, grinning as he
carried her inside.